I don't know about you, but I have long since attached genders to numbers. I don't think this was ever taught to me, it's just something I've always assumed. In my misshaped mind, 1,5,6,8,9 are all masculine, and 2,4,7 are feminine. 3 is fairly ambiguous because, let's face it, it just is. When I was driving home from lunch today I was thinking of bigger numbers and the respective genders I've assigned them. Two-digit numbers that begin with a male gender are male unless the first number is followed by a female number (example: 16 is fully male, but 17 is female). When it comes to the first of a two-digit number being female, however, I identify that all ten numbers in that particular numerology (i.e., 20-29, 40-49, and 70-79) are female, no matter the gender of the second digit in the number. And I can't help but wonder... does that make me a feminist?

I was informed earlier today that the gal I'm filling in for is coming back a day early, which means that TODAY is my last day at this temp job. I'm both glad and not-so-glad upon hearing this bit of news. Glad to be sleeping in tomorrow, and not-so-glad to be missing the amount of money I was planning on making by working tommorrow (albeit small). At this point, I need every freakin' nickel I can find.

The tight money thing really isn't new to me. I've pretty much always been a paycheck-to-paycheck liver. I'm used to it, I guess. I fantasize about the day when I am filthy, stinking rich, and how I will be able to afford to stock my lavish bar in only one shopping trip (all the while waving my money around like candy) as I look forward to the many impromtu parties I will have when my wealthy and powerful friends stop by simply because they were "in the area".

I have a theory about fantasies, actually. My theory is as follows: Do not fantasize about any situation that has even a remote chance of coming true. Why have this theory, you ask? Well, throughout the years, my fantasies (most people call them "daydreams", but I think "fantasies" sounds much more exotic, don't you?) have usually been about enticingly sweaty men and all the wonderfully romantic (and naughty) things they are clamoring to do for me. In the recent past, however, my fantasies are becoming alarmingly more sensible. It got to a point where my ultimate fantasy was centered around the day when I finally remembered to return the dvds to Blockbuster on time, and people, that's just sad. So, I've relegated myself to saving my fantasy life for only the best, most intangible storylines my stumpy little brain can bring to life. Thinking rationally for long periods of time, I find, is just too damn taxing.

Have been reading a couple new diaries (well, new-to-me diaries) I'd like to bring to everyone's attention (everyone being the two people who humor me by reading this). Please, people, if you do ANYTHING today, read some of the rants by humantorch. Also, I was very happy to have found near-sighted, or rather be found by near-sighted. She's well worth the read. Coke-bottle glasses-wearers unite!